


Unwind

by ThatNeedyZombie



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Dom/sub, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hate Sex, Humiliation, Jeremy has a knife, Jeremy is an Asshole, M/M, Power Imbalance, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sex in a Car, Smut, Spit As Lube, Top Jeremy, Verbal Humiliation, bottom waylon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:15:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29888574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatNeedyZombie/pseuds/ThatNeedyZombie
Summary: After a fight, Waylon and Jeremy escaped from Mont Massive together. And if Waylon imagined his time had come when he's asked to stop the car, Jeremy Blaire had other plans.(Aka AU where they fuck in Miles' poor jeep)
Relationships: Jeremy Blaire/Waylon Park
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Unwind

**Author's Note:**

> Not a native speaker so excuse me for the grammar, poor vocabulary... I simply wanted to write something for that pairing! Enjoy!!

Hope… It was there, shy and growing at the view of Mont Massive’ open doors. When he saw the sun disturbing the shadows, Waylon Park finally allowed himself to feel something: Relieve.

He had suffered so much and yet, he thought himself lucky. Some met a worst faith in the dark corridors. Most would never leave. And he was there, alive and feeling hopeful.

The sun caressed his face as soon as he stepped outside. It felt like a reward. This could’ve been a beautiful day, or at least a decent one, but things happened… And those things, he’d carry them with him until his last day. Which he hoped wouldn’t be too soon.

His eyes fixed on the entry gates, he walked as fast as his ankle allowed him, feeling pain at every step. No more monsters now. Just the consequences of having cross their way.

Under the burning sky giving the place an apocalyptic look, the injured man kept on going. None was chasing him except from the asylum shadow slowly absorbing everything around.

The Murkoff’s agents were there, inside those walls. And he’d the feeling many wouldn’t leave the cursed place. Not his problem. Him, he was outside.

Without knowing where to go exactly but far, he walked toward the exit. A strange impression hit him. Waylon felt like if, the last time he passed those gates, another man lived inside his head, and that one never knew what _real_ hope was. Nor real fear. That version of him was just an innocent soul wanting to build a good life for himself and his family.

He couldn’t believe his luck when he found a jeep with the driver door open and the keys in ignition right in front of the gate. Maybe had he earned it for surviving hell. Anyway, he was far too exhausted to ask himself question.

His whole body hurt when he sat but no time to take a break, putting distance between him and that place only mattered. He’d drive fast. Go home, burn everything to the ground and flee with his family, and for sure denounce Murkoff. The world needed to know. And they… They deserved to pay.

“Park!” The voice made him jump in fear. Too eager to leave, he hadn’t noticed the presence of the devil himself. Before he knew, Jeremy Blaire opened the car’s door and tried to stab him. He only missed his target because Waylon rolled on his side.

“How can you still be alive?” Barked the man with the knife.

He tried once again, only stabbing the seat under the engineer. No doubt his previous fights had costed him his strengths else Waylon would be dead.

They fought; Blaire ended up literally sat on Waylon’s torso while he tried to force the knife in his head. The engineer gave everything he’d left, his arms shaking as he maintained some distance between him and the blade.

His desperation helped him but even that wouldn’t last. Weaker than Blaire from the start, the things he lived recently left him without an ounce of strength.

Thinking that he’d be the last time, he glanced over the attacker’s shoulder to see the amber sky above Mont Massive. But something had changed. The horizon had become darker and as menacing as the rest.

“Is this the…”

Blaire frowned. Himself too seemed to have noticed something. His face suddenly turned white and he abandoned the fight. He climbed over Waylon to join the passenger seat and started to give orders. “Move your ass and drive Park!”

Waylon quickly sat and this time, locked the car’s door. Too bad the worst asshole was already inside… It took him a couple of seconds before moving. His stare lost in the horizon. A dark cloud devoured the asylum’s entrance, a presence so terrifying Waylon forgot about the man sat next to him. The Walrider stood there and it didn’t seem alone.

He moved his hand to take the camera he dropped when Blaire attacked him but couldn’t find the object. Probably had it fall under the seat during the fight.

“Park!”

They needed to go. Far and fast. Else that thing would destroy them. Waylon hated it but Blaire’s reactivity might’ve saved them.

He started the car, shaking like the dead leaves on the ground did while the dark cloud made its way to them.

It progressed fast! Already eating up half of the jeep when Waylon managed to turn. He forced the vehicle through the gate under Blaire’s commands, closing his eyes as the shadow moved all around them.

Never in his life he’d driven so fast! 

His feet stayed on the accelerator even when the shadow and Mont Massive disappeared over the horizon. He feared that if he stopped, the place itself would be behind the car, trying to force him back inside. _Them_ …

Blaire presence suddenly became his first concern. Though he didn’t seem ready to kill him now, himself probably feared what they’d left behind: The Walrider. The uncontrollable force didn’t care who worn the prisoner clothes or the expensive suit.

Once they were done panting, an uncomfortable silence fell on the car. Waylon feared how a single word could cost him his life and Blaire… Well, impossible for engineer to know for sure but he could guess: The cunning man was probably already thinking of a way to take the control back on the asylum but more urgently, how to get rid of a snitch.

They were on a road in the woods surrounding Mont Massive, and he’d a knife, nothing was going to stop him once he finally took his decision. 

Scared, Waylon kept his focus on the road. Maybe he could drive until a place he knew where too many people lived for Blaire to attempt anything. It wasn’t close, two hours separate them from there, but at that point he’d nothing else.

Soon he got used to the silence. He even managed to shut his brain off for the hour that followed. Sadly, the now peaceful silence broke under Blaire’s instructions.

“Take that road.” He commanded while pointing an intersection. That one leaded directly in the deepest part of the woods, far from the small-town Waylon noticed when he drove from his home to Mont Massive an eternity ago. The only place around where he knew they’d find people.

“Where… Where are we going?”

“I’ve a property not far, just a couple of hours.” Announced Blaire like if the perspective of spending so much time in the same car together didn’t bother him. “There we should be safe from… that.”

“Yeah, awesome. And from your house you’ll be able to contact Murkoff and finally get rid of me.” Waylon knew he spoke too much. His fears, they never should be said out loud in front of this man. If he enrolled him as a test subject at the Morphogenic Engine and didn’t kill him on spot, it was because he knew what would hurt Waylon the most.

“Ah Park…” sighed Blaire. “I don’t need anyone to get rid of you, it’s my job and I don’t mind getting my hands dirty. Now focus on the road.”

Focusing… Hard when the future was so uncertain. From the knife to the possibility of being followed by Murkoff’s agents to every shadow the trees projected on the road, the danger seemed everywhere.

Of course, most of those problems weren’t in Blaire’s concern. Him only feared to lose money, and maybe to be forced to clean his mess. At worst he might regret being the king of hell on earth.

Impossible to decipher anything on his face. He watched the miles go by; eyes fixed on the trees.

Waylon considered fighting him. Or at least, try to steal the knife and throw it by the window but he was too tired. With the time passing, he became weaker while Blaire seemed to regain his strength.

After a shorter amount of time, new orders were given to him. And those made his blood ran cold.

“Stop the car.” The knife was pressed on his cheek.

“Wh…”

“No question Park just do it.”

He searched to meet Blaire’s eyes to silently beg but the man was too focused watching their surroundings.

Waylon pulled the car over the side of the road, listening to Blaire’s instructions and hoping that his voice wouldn’t be the last he heard.

Here, alone on that isolated road in the middle of the woods, the asylum felt far. Like if it’d never existed. Just a terrible nightmare Waylon did in his way home.

Sadly, the man on the passenger seat was there to remind Waylon how it’d all been real. 

He stopped the engine at his demand and watched him untie his seatbelt. Blaire too looked like he’d seen hell. His usually combed hair was undone, his face pale, and a few buttons were missing from his shirt, shirt that presented blood stains. Not his own blood though. That kind of men were born to make others bleed, not the other way around. He also presented a few cuts on his hands, probably made when he broke the radio.

“W-What are you doing?” He stuttered when Blaire moved toward him.

“I need to unwind Park.”

Blaire pushed him against his seat and unbuckled his belt. Something dangerous troubled his blue eyes, his gestures were meticulous and fast. He observed Waylon, his knife describing little circles on the engineer’s torso.

“You’ll do. Don’t get a big head but I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to rail you… Your face is… okay.”

“O-Okay?” Parroted Waylon. Maybe was it because of what he’d just lived but he couldn’t follow Blaire’s speech.

The man laughed before moving away just the time to pull the seat back. His knife stayed on Waylon’s body like if he really believed his hostage would go anywhere. Now who was stupid? The idea of leaving the car here, knowing Murkoff agents or worst -like the Walrider- were after them, scared him. And he had had his dose of fear for a life.

When Blaire put his attention back on him, Waylon finally understood how serious he was about his idea to “unwind” and what it exactly meant. Though, he stayed calm and let him do. Even when he started to unzip his jumpsuit.

“Hmm, you won’t fight back? I like that.” Hummed Blaire. His smug smile made Waylon grimace. Who did he think he was? Inside the asylum, he seemed to be just a man like everyone else. A prey thrown into a monsters’ pit. But being humbled wasn’t in his nature, people would hear about how he courageously survived the riot during decades!

“You know, I won’t stop you from having fun with me. Maybe you need to unwind too.” He proposed as he unzipped the jumpsuit down until Waylon’s boxers peeked. “Of course, you’ll have to do it with your legs spread. I always top.”

It made Waylon’s eyes roll. That man was the alpha’s cliché! Though nothing of this surprised him, this had always been exactly how imagined Jeremy Blaire to be. The Murkoff’s executive Vice President would take everything he desire, not need, and only gives little in return. Strangely, Waylon’s cock twitched at the thought.

“What are you doing?” Waylon grabbed the hand in which was the knife and moved it away from his skin. He wasn’t sure what his ex-boss had attempted to do but didn’t like it.

The gesture didn’t please the man at all, he glared at Waylon the same way he did in the prison and near the exit while attacking him.

“Your clothes are in the way.” He spat venomously.

Waylon frowned and retorqued: “Maybe I can get rid of them in a civilized manner. I saw what you can do with a baton and know I can’t trust you with a knife.” Not after he almost stabbed him an hour ago.

Blaire raised his hands up, a sign of surrender spoiled by the nasty smile stretching his lips. Oh, he did remember his two attempts to kill Waylon. That vicious smile still on his face, he watched the engineer pulling the top of his jumpsuit off and then, his undershirt.

Scratches, deeper cuts, and forming bruises coloured the younger man’s torso.

“Stupid and a terrible fighter Park… Someone has only had their luck to survive while others used their skills.”

“Shut…”

But Waylon was the one to shut his mouth when two lips assaulted his.

At first, it was slow, gentle. Blaire only brushing his sore lips as if he cared a little, _just a little_ , to no hurt the engineer further. But as soon as Waylon opened his mouth to let him enter, he became the same man as the one who had thrown him in hell. Ruthless, sadistic, and in need of absolute control. He licked the inside of Waylon’s mouth while holding him with a hand around his throat and the other, the one with the knife, grabbing him by his hair.

Entirely at Blaire’s mercy, Waylon moved his tongue shyly. Not even sure if it were okay for him to participate in the kiss.

“You don’t taste too bad.” Commented Blaire when they parted. He licked his lips to prove his point, his eyes on Waylon’s own like they were a key to escape one of those cells the asylum counted by hundreds. “Wonder what kind of noises you’ll make when I get you on my cock.”

“You really want… I-I mean… the whole thing?” Waylon asked in fear. “We don’t even have lube!”

“Oh Park, you’re going to support a little bit of pain for me. After all, we’re here because of you!”

“No, I didn’t…” His own moan cut him off. Blaire had suddenly let go of his throat and moved to suck on his nipple.

It was wrong. So wrong. His consent, his boundaries… Everything, completely ignored. But his body reacted to it, enjoying the attention it was receiving now that he was finally safe. Or safer than before.

His legs spread by themselves when Blaire’s hand slid down to caress his crotch. A dark shade of red took over his cheeks, now impossible to hide his hardness from the controlling boss. After Mont Massive, it seemed like any kind of affection was good to take, even that one.

Soon the tongue let its place to teeth. The greedy man wanted to feel him come apart under his hands, and to someone used to be at the top, the best way to do it was violence.

When Waylon became a mess, he manhandled him to finally pull off what was left of his clothes. Precum glistened at the tip of his cock and soon stained his stomach.

After a short giggle, Blaire pinned him against the seat.

“Too bad you don’t have that little camera anymore…” He whispered in his ear. Waylon’s heart bounced in panic, he really hoped for it to have rolled under his seat because if Blaire found it, his survive would be compromised and destroying Murkoff impossible.

“Like I’d like to remember what we’re about to do.” Waylon tried to move away but the other man was too strong. If only he could be sure where that stupide camera had gone…

“Don’t be selfish Park, I was thinking about Lisa.”

The husband’s blood ran cold. This time he really tried to escape Blaire’s grip and to close his legs. His defensive movements did nothing but amuse the sadistic man.

“Can’t take a joke? Like I’d like anyone to know I touched a crazy man!” To that he kissed him furiously, letting go of Waylon’s wrists to lift his legs up. 

This time Waylon put more into the kiss. His rage confronted the other man’s lips. He wanted him to feel his suffering, to experience the hate he inspired him.

“Have I finally awakened something in you?” His icy eyes plunged into Waylon’s soul. For the first time since they met, the smile _Jeremy_ worn was for him and not for the ‘contract 8208’. Waylon hated that! He pulled him closer, suppressing that smile by a kiss.

They attacked each other mouth a moment. When he felt Blaire’s cock, still trapped under the clothes, against his ass, he wrapped his legs around him. He wanted it. Wanted Jeremy Blaire to ruin him in this car, the sex needed to hurt, to be brutal, to be everything but tender. Else, that would be a betrayal. Waylon had changed, he knew it deep down, but he didn’t want to hurt Lisa so bad.

Though, when Blaire quickly pulled down his pants and freed his erection, Waylon started to get scared. Hadn’t he suffered enough? Wouldn’t Lisa want some mercy for him? That if, of course, the man pinning him against his seat wanted to show him a little…

“Come on, at least use your fingers.” He complained when Jeremy tried to force his cock inside him. No warning, nothing. Blaire only wanted to take and couldn’t care less about Waylon being uncomfortable. Or hurt. As twisted as it was, Waylon’s cock twitched again.

“You know what I’m going to use if you keep whining Park?” Waylon’s face grew pale. How could he have forgotten to never anger the man holding the knife? Maybe was it the terror contorting his face that forced Jeremy to drop his attitude, or he thought about his own discomfort, but he allowed Waylon’s a moment. “Fine, but you use yours. And don’t take all day.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

He slid a hand between them, Jeremy lifting his thighs higher so he could reach his hole.

If there was a thing he didn’t want to test, it was Jeremy’s patience. No caress, no touching, he directly thrusted one of his fingers inside. It felt so hot down there, so inviting… He added a second finger fast. Scared to not have enough time to prepare himself decently. Jeremy wasn’t _too_ large but enough for him to know that it wouldn’t go well without a certain amount of preparation.

It’d been time! The pleasure invaded him as he hit his prostate, it was so intense his body jerked. Funny how with the years he’d almost forgotten how his own body worked.

Staring at him, Jeremy started to stroke himself. Judging by the way he bit his lisp the spectacle given by Waylon pleased him. Even though it weren’t obvious, for once the engineer was in control. Loving his new power, he moaned while fingering himself for his boss. Ex-boss, but the detail didn’t matter then.

“Park.” Blaire grew impatient. He panted over Waylon, the head of his cock so close it must’ve tempted him.

“Spit on me. I… mean… Y-You know where…” Suddenly begged Waylon. His face heated up. Asking that to Blaire felt so wrong.

Too happy to oblige, Blaire spat on Waylon’s fingers and hole. He watched the engineer filling himself up with his saliva. More precum dripped from his cock at the view.

If it was his thing then Waylon didn’t disappoint. They repeated the operation a few times, by the end Waylon’s inside were as wet and welcoming as if he used lubricant and had been helped by his partner. Or almost. To be fair, himself too grew impatient.

When he tried to withdraw his fingers, Blaire stopped him by grabbing his wrist. He’d dropped his knife on the floor, far from Waylon’s reach.

“I-I’ve done something wrong?”

“Quite the opposite…” That vicious smile… Blaire knew how to make someone feel insignificant. “Wasn’t I wasting a precious resource when I made you a patient? If I’d known about your real talents, I would’ve given you another role! Now I know how you survived.” To that he finally let Waylon pull off his fingers.

The things he wanted to scream… But he couldn’t. Jeremy was too dangerous. What they were doing now suited Waylon better. A fight of flesh and tongues.

After a long kiss, Jeremy dominated him furiously by pinning his body against the seat with his weight and marking his skin with his teeth. He only bit the skin that the jumpsuit could hide, a good sign for what would happen once this was done.

His eyes admired what he’d done only with his teeth.

Waylon wondered what else he could’ve done to him if their situation was different and if they’d all their time.

“You go slow.” Pathetically commanded Waylon. Far from a leader, his voice sounded like the one of a desperate man begging.

“Don’t hope for it, I want to ruin you.”

Jeremy thrusted inside, going directly for the prostate.

Pleasure, pain… Waylon felt both. Too full he lifted his legs higher in a desperate attempt to get some relief.

The man topping him, though, only had pleasure judging by his groan. His hands pinned the engineer’s wrists, making him as helpless as he could. Because of course, the man dedicated to keep the asylum’s secrets loved to see the whistleblower in this position. This could be deciphered in his eyes.

“God you’re so tight! Made for this, ain’t you?” Balls deep inside the younger man, he took his time to comment in a mocking way.

“Fuck me already.”

A punitive thrust made Waylon’s legs tighten around his torso.

“Be nice Park, you certainly don’t want to make me angry now.”

“I-I though you always were against me?” Waylon managed to say between two thrusts.

If Jeremy huffed, he didn’t reply. Probably because this wasn’t worth his time.

He started a pace, one that he must’ve loved, fast and rough. He didn’t care about Waylon’s needs. Didn’t care that it was a living person underneath him, only evacuating his stress mattered. And that, Waylon felt it on each thrust. Though, this was exactly what his own body needed. The sex between them, just another way to fight.

Like if he wanted to make a point, Jeremy went for Waylon’s prostate with each of his thrust. He kept him in the helpless position, entirely naked at his mercy, groaning louder every time he managed to steal him a whimper. And when his name started to be screamed, the pace became punitive for them both. Their bodies bounced in the seat and made the jeep move with them.

“Jeremy, please.”

“A problem, Park? Can’t follow?” He bit his neck right after, like if he wanted his prey defeated. Blaire was a shark, in his work and between Waylon’s legs. Blood attracted him. This time he showed no mercy and only stopped to bit when Waylon’s scream got louder, and the blood stained his pale skin.

“Want me to go more slowly?”

“No.” Why was he forcing him to use his words? It bothered Waylon how much Jeremy was blind to his needs, to the point he hadn’t noticed the engineer’s cock turning red. Though, he might also didn’t care at all. “I just… I-I need one of my hands.”

The rhythm with which Jeremy fucked him slowed down. His frowning didn’t last though…

“Oh! You would like to touch yourself… Can’t come without that? Because I’m not sure to give any favours to a little shit using my name, Waylon. Not like you’ve ever been in position to do so.”

He pressed himself against the bottom and took an even faster pace, abusing Waylon’s hole for his own pleasure.

In the middle of the violence’s wave, one that Waylon appreciated too much for his taste, a soft kiss helped him not to lose himself. The pain now, the pain before, and the one that stuck with him… If it weren’t for the lips forcing him to stay in the jeep, his mind would’ve wondered back into hell. Was it the same for Jeremy? Waylon liked to think that yes. This kiss was so different, it must’ve helped him to stay too.

Jeremy broke it when he came. He filled him with his semen, glancing between them to see how deep his cock was buried into Waylon’s stretched hole.

“I must admit, you can take a cock…” The smirk on his face was punctuated by his panting. “What were you asking for again?”

Waylon bit his lips, the asshole fed himself by making Waylon his pathetic slut.

“To touch myself, please. Sir.”

The grip on his wrists would leave bruises as surely as if ropes had been used. When Jeremy finally accepted to release him, his skin had turned red and was burning.

Under the blue eyes, he slid his hand down his body and began to stroke his length. He’d the impression to do it in front of a whole assembly, scared to disappoint if he didn’t come fast.

His thumb playing with the tip of his cock, he felt the orgasm coming. A lick on his cheek and Jeremy’s hand substituted to his. Unlike when hammering his prostate, he moved his hand softly and encouraged Waylon to come for him. To give him everything. Though, his cooed words kept the engineer where he wanted him to stay, at the very bottom.

The noise he made while he came was described as ‘cute’. The last straw to make him feel pathetic. At least he though…

“Taste yourself…” Jeremy commanded calmly.

As if Jeremy’s length wasn’t softening in his hole, Waylon shyly opened his mouth to take his fingers. The worst being how much effort he put into the task. Like he wanted to show how good he was with his mouth too. How obedient he could become if asked.

He did everything as the dominant wanted, sucking his cum on the fingers and keeping them there even when it was done.

“I should’ve imprisoned you under my desk.” It seemed to fascinate Jeremy. He made Waylon his bitch so easily… He probably had plans for after, maybe ‘touching a crazy man’ wouldn’t disgust him in the future. Not when he could make them bend.

Wouldn’t be Waylon anymore though… No matter how all this ended, that was a one-time thing. Their ways would part soon, in a way or another.

When the fingers left his mouth, Waylon’s panting transformed into crying. It was ugly, made him look ever weaker and pathetic, but he couldn’t keep his tears for himself only. They were burning his eyes. That pain, stronger than anything else, begged to be realised.

He pressed his face against the other man shoulder and let his emotion take the control.

“My… suit.” Sighed Jeremy in disgust. Maybe it was because the suit was already well ruined, or because he didn’t mind if Waylon cried, but he abandoned the idea of doing anything against it. The cries filled the jeep.

At some point, he patted Waylon’s shoulder and whispered something so softly the one crying didn’t understand. Probably yet another mockery, he was better without knowing.

They moved after a while, the engineer sniffing and rubbing his eyes. The after sex he dreaded was there. Though, no knife pierced his skin and no fist hit his face. Quite the opposite…

Jeremy kissed Waylon one last time before pulling himself out. If the gesture was nice, cleaning himself with Waylon’s undershirt was less.

“Ain’t gonna risk using anything in this car.” He explained, smirking.

Though, even his usual manner to mock Waylon disappeared during the time he arranged his clothes and returned to his seat. He became a wall, harsh and cold. So above everything that even according to the engineer attention would’ve ruined his character. Like if he hadn’t been the one who so needed to _unwind_.

Waylon dressed himself, abandoning the olive-green piece of clothing ruined by Blaire’s cum. Just like him…

After having seem himself in the rear-view mirror, he tried to fix his hair. There was some blood decolouring his blonde hair, impossible to get rid of that with his fingers, and he doubted asking Blaire to use his shower would lead him anywhere. That if he was still alive until the man’s house. 

“Move Park, we won’t stay here all day.” Blaire’s voice sounded cold. Without a glance to Waylon, he took a cigarette in his suit and lightened it up. The exhaustion seemed to have finally hit him.

Though, maybe he wasn’t wrong. They needed to move. And it shown his intentions weren’t to kill Waylon now.

As if he could read in his mind, Blaire took the knife from the floor and placed it near him. Still not a glance given to the man he’d just fuck…

While pulling the seat back up, Waylon noticed the camera and gave it a quick kick for it to be well hid under the seat. Nothing in the world would make him change his mind: Murkoff needed to pay for its crimes. And he might’ve been pathetic, but he still wanted to be the one making the kingdom fall.

For a whole hour, no words were exchanged between the two men in the stolen jeep. One slowly processed what had just happen while the other seemed to reconsider every of his life choices. Had Blaire ever looked so sombre?

The road was long, with nothing but trees. The driver could’ve fallen asleep if he hadn’t feared a sudden attack. He doubted though, Blaire wouldn’t risk dying like that when all he’d to do was patiently waiting until they reached his home. Heck, they were chances for a deadly committee to await the whistleblower there!

His terrifying thoughts were interrupted by a hand handling him a cigarette. Blaire lightened it up before picking himself a second one.

“What are your plans now, Park?” He asked too sympathetically to Waylon’s taste.

“If you don’t stab me to death?” He paused but no sarcastic comments were made. “I’ll rush to my home and flee with my family. I’ll just… hold them and tell them how much I love them.”

“Great plan, I can see you care for your family. So many would leave them behind, I probably would if I were you. But Park, if you manage to convince your wife to follow you, how much time do you think you can escape from me?” Challenged Blaire.

“Well… I guess we’ll see.”

And just like that, the silence fell again.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo? Hope it was enjoyable. Much love to everyone who stopped by!!


End file.
